


Simple Creature

by vatnalilja



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Orgasm Delay, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25667632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vatnalilja/pseuds/vatnalilja
Summary: Sten of the Beresaad is loyal to the Warden and has a way of working within his moral code to see that they both get what they want.
Relationships: Sten/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. 9:31 - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This drivel follows official canon as close as possible. Alistair is king, but I have left the origin of the Warden undefined. Their relationship can be filled in by your imagination.

> "I am a simple creature. I like swords, I follow orders. What else is there to be puzzled by?"

The Warden watched the fire, the weight of her actions over the last year finally settling into her body. They had constantly been moving from one place to another, a new task always demanding their attention. It wasn't that she didn't have another duty set out before her now--it was perhaps the greatest duty of her entire life--she just hoped that it was her last for some time to come. 

She could feel her joints ache. The warmth of the fire wasn't doing much for them, nor was it doing anything for the feeling of impending doom that had slowly been creeping up on her.

There was a knock on her door frame. Her door was open, so it was more to announce an arrival than anything else. The knock was heavy, that of a larger hand. She recognized her friend's presence even through his silence. She had learned to, since he spoke so little and only when she pestered him.

She dropped her feet from the second chair where they had rested, then slid it out with her heel as she gestured to it. His footsteps were not light, but they had a practiced nature to them. At his height and weight, there was likely no amount of training in stealth that would ever hide his presence, though he was far from lumbering.

The wooden chair creaked under him as he sat. Nearly all of them did. He was quiet as he studied her tired face, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His hair was down, the silver braids spilling along the back of his neck and shoulders. His golden skin glowed in the light of the fire, adding a much needed level of warmth to the stone keep's chilly atmosphere.

"Here we are again," she said.

The two of them were usually the last in their tents, often enough that they regularly relieved whoever tried to keep first watch. After she reunited him with Asala, he kept closer yet, not retiring for the night until she went first. While his demeanor had softened toward her considerably and she caught him _nearly_ smiling more often, they still bickered about the differences between their cultures. It had become routine for them. She enjoyed the way he growled "parshaara" in annoyance and he most certainly liked the cookies she'd brought to him in apology.

"Can you not sleep?" he asked.

"I will in a bit. Just... thinking," she said. "You?"

"Sleep is never a problem," he said.

"Then why are you still up?"

"Because I knew you would be awake, worrying about things you cannot change," he said. "You always are."

"After tomorrow, I'll sleep for a week," she said with a small smile. "Just need to kill this archdemon. No sweat."

"If anyone can kill an old god in the body of a dragon, kadan, it is you. I hope you survive the encounter."

"If we survive this, we'll be heroes," she said. "It'll be cookies as far as the eye can see."

She threw her arm out in an obnoxious flourish. A snort escaped him while his violet eyes creased at the corners, making her wonder if he ever smiled properly. Maybe back in Seheron, among his men. After all, he hadn't come to Ferelden to make friends, though one or two managed to sneak through his stern façade.

"'Hero.' It is a strange word, but I think I understand its meaning," he said, his voice low, as if he were mulling over his own statement. "The Arishok on occasion has declared a Qunari to be a 'qunoran vehl', one who serves as an example to others."

She dared not interrupt him. It was rare he offered any meaningful insights into the Qunari way of life or said more than a sentence at a time without her pressing for more information.

"Such examples are always made after death, however. A death in the service to the Qun. A living qunoran vehl would be too proud."

"Howe and Loghain were living proof of that very problem," she muttered. "So, do the Qunari do anything exciting when a qunoran vehl is declared?"

"Certainly," he said. "It is one of the few occasions when we are permitted to engage in... revelry."

Her eyebrows rose as she leaned her head forward a bit, surprised at his answer. It was hard to imagine Sten enjoying himself, but she had no idea what the rest of the Qunari were like. His world was colored by his duty as a soldier, after all. She wanted to meet the farmers and the bookkeeps, the Qunari who made up everyday life. Surely there must be a part of Qunari society that she would recognize--they couldn't be that different, no matter what he said. 

"There is imbibing of spirits, public chanting, meditations abandoned... it is madness," he said. "There is much to clean up after such a celebration. There may even be... executions."

"I have a hard time imagining you letting loose," she said. "You've clenched so hard that I think you might just be stuck like this."

"Will there be a celebration after the archdemon is slain?" he asked.

"Will there ever. I'm going to demand they put out every ale cask and then some once this is done. Whoever’s alive after all of this deserves to drink themselves blind for the next week straight."

"Then you and I will have a drink together," he said. 

"But it won't be a celebration for a qunoran vehl."

"There are also no cookies in Seheron."

She understood not to push any further.

"Now go to sleep," he said, standing. "Our march begins early."

She got up after him and trailed him into her door, her hand on the heavy oak as he crossed the threshold. He turned back to look down at her for a moment, a small smile pulling the corners of his mouth upward ever-so-slightly. She knew this look, but she had never seen it on his face before. It was a look that told her he had more to say but was holding back for some reason. It was a look she expected to see on Zevran, maybe even Alistair. On him, it was so foreign that it didn't even fully register in her mind until she had closed the door after him and was standing in the center of her room.

She had forgotten the encroaching sense of dread completely.

* * *

For a moment, everything was blurry as her eyelashes refused to unstick. Her body felt as if it weighed a ton, not responding to any command her brain gave, intentional or otherwise. After a bit, she was able to raise her hand to her eyes, rubbing them gently. She blinked a few times and finally made out the ceiling above her. She was in bed. The last thing she remembered was being enveloped by the light that poured from the archdemon as she struck the killing blow. That light seemed to last forever, washing over her as she struggled to let go of her weapon. And then it had been darkness.

So she was alive. Morrigan's plan had worked after all. She offered a small prayer to anyone or thing that might hear her, in part thanks and in part asking for safety for her companion’s path ahead.

She was still in the palace, by the look of things. With her hands in her hair, she closed her eyes and tried to still her anxieties. It was then she noticed the smell of cinnamon and cloves. It was faint, as if it were coming from the fireplace across the room.

"Do you have the strength to come for tea, or should I bring it to you?"

Pushing herself up, she grumbled and swung her heavy legs from under the sheets. She was in a short dressing gown, her legs bandaged in a few places. A bit of prodding at her torso revealed a few more, but nothing felt too painful. Despite everything, she had sustained largely bruises and minor scrapes.

Her feet shuffled for the first few steps, but each got easier as the weariness lifted. She found him pouring two cups of tea, sitting on the settee, which was meant to seat three, but at the moment could barely seat two. She sat beside him, resting her back against the cushions, her knee falling against his.

"It is hot," he warned as he handed her a fine porcelain cup of Orlesian design.

The cup he used was much larger, something dwarven and better suited for his hands.

"You gave me the silliest little cup you could find, didn't you?" she asked.

"It has a wider rim, so you are able to smell the spices more fully," he said, looking down at her.

"You never stop surprising me," she said and took a sip.

The liquid warmed her insides immediately, waking up whatever parts of her were still groggy. It tasted wonderful. The palace's black tea was easily better than what she had at home. And the spices were certainly fresher.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

"Half a day," he replied, his eyes not leaving her as he drank his tea. "Alistair asked that I inform him as soon as you woke, but he can wait."

"Is everyone..."

She didn't want to finish the question. She didn't want to ask it.

"Your friends have all survived. Many were not so fortunate."

"When I have a proper ale, I'll be the first to lead a toast," she said. "And you owe me that drink later."

"I have not forgotten. You should know that I have already slept through my morning meditation."

"Slow down," she said with a laugh, putting her free hand on his upper arm. "Don't run yourself ragged before the celebration really begins."

It was far from a grin, but he gave her a true smile, his eyes soft and his features relaxed. In response, she felt her own cheeks grow hot. She didn't need a mirror to know she had turned pink, she could tell by the way her skin tingled. But she wasn't bashful--if she ever had been, a year of fighting the Blight had done away with it. And she had never been anything but stubborn around him. His own unyielding nature brought it out in her. So, she did not look away. Instead, she smiled back up at him as she finished the last of her tea.

"You're quite handsome when you smile," she said.

"Do not tease me, kadan, or you may not see more," he replied, but his tone was light, almost playful.

"I'm sorry. I take it back. I don't think you're handsome at all," she said, handing him her cup. 

He did not refill it as she expected. Instead, he set it down on the low table in front of them, along with his own, then sat back and settled his gaze on her once again.

"Even basara eventually stop staring, but for an entire year, all you have done is look at me," he said. "You must think I am handsome even when I do not smile."

Her mouth opened and then closed again. She was at a loss for words. If he were anyone else, she'd accuse him of flirting with her. Her brows knitted together as she searched for a response. Before she could come up with anything, his hands were on her waist, pulling her onto his lap until she was facing him, straddling his legs. She was beyond flustered, any hope for a coherent reply obliterated while his palms slid down to the tops of her thighs, just below the hem of her lightweight gown.

"Is this part of the revelry you mentioned?" she finally asked as his fingers disappeared up under the white cloth.

"I assumed you understood my intentions," he said. "Was I wrong?"

She couldn't help but laugh, resting her hands on his chest. She gripped the fabric of his plain, brown linen shirt as her head swam. The archdemon she had understood. This Qunari, she apparently did not.

"I didn't realize you meant... this, but I'm not complaining. Just surprised, that's all," she said. "Pleasantly surprised."

His coarse hands found her bare hips and he pulled her weight down against his lap. She could feel his erection beneath his trousers, a sure sign he had been waiting for this moment. He buried his face in her neck, his mouth on her skin, covering her in kisses from her shoulder to her ear. He was inelegant, but not overly rough, nipping at her but not in a way that would leave any lasting marks.

After a bit, he pulled her free of her gown and leaned her body back, his mouth finding her breast. She felt his teeth on her nipple as his tongue toyed along its edges, the sensation causing her to inhale sharply as she wrapped her hands in his braids. He pushed her back down onto him as he ground himself up against her, his face in her neck again as one arm wrapped around her waist tightly.

"Sten," she whispered. 

"Yes, kadan?" he asked, his mouth on her ear.

"You're not... intending on all of those things I overheard you mention to Morrigan, are you?" she asked. "Was that all true?"

He sat back and looked at her for a moment, his fingers touching the edges of her bandages. Her body was small, much smaller than that of a Qunari woman, but strong, hardened by a year of constant battle. He had come to admire her form and the moment he had realized it some months back had been a shock to him. Coming to terms with that realization had been difficult.

"I was exaggerating so that bas saarebas would leave me alone. There was some truth to it, but you are in no shape for any of that. You are tired and wounded," he said. "We can leave the bindings and leather straps for later."

"Sten," she said in near disbelief.

"For now, let us do things slowly," he said.

"Yes please," she muttered, the pressure of his erection still pressed up against the bare flesh between her legs.

He pulled his shirt over his head as she undid his belt, loosening his trousers, which he tugged at as she sat up high and leaned from one side to the other so he could tug them off completely. Once he was finished, she did everything she could to not immediately stare at his groin. There was so much of him to look at, to take in, from his wide chest, his muscular arms, his firm abdomen divided into eight distinct sections, to his...

"Why do I get the feeling you're well-endowed for a Qunari," she said softly, looking back up at his face. "That's bigger than I expected."

"Considering the width of your hips, I am confident this will not only work, but will be pleasurable," he said.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, circling her arms around the back of his neck. His response was passionate and far more skilled than she expected. Based on everything he had told her, this puzzled her, but she wasn't going to ask about his experience right then. Maker, but she was curious.

She rested her weight on him again, his kiss following her as she went, and she pressed her labia up against the underside of his rigid cock, pushing it up against his lower abdomen as she rubbed herself along it. She was already quite wet and her clit buzzed in sheer pleasure as she slid herself along his shaft. Their kiss faltered as they both moaned at the sensation and she could feel the low deep sound emanate from his chest. She didn't realize just how badly she wanted this until minutes ago. Just how badly she wanted this obstinate, immovable stone wall of a man who disliked nearly everything and everyone around him.

Her lips pulled away slightly, hovering as close as possible to his without actually touching. Her fingers played in his loose braids, all while she rolled her lower body up and down along his.

"If anyone had asked me which I thought would have been easier, killing the archdemon or getting you in bed, the answer would be, without a doubt, killing the archdemon. I would have thought it would be easier to turn the Black City golden once again than to have sex with the Sten of the Beresaad," she murmured.

"If you had not killed the archdemon, we would not be here," he said, his tone as matter-of-fact as always, but a shade softer.

He leaned back and looked down at their bodies. Apart from her size and her lack of horns, her body was not that different from that of a Qunari. His fingers touched her navel, caressing her stomach for a moment before he grabbed her and slid her back along his legs several inches. His hand moved between her legs, his fingers pushing up against her labia. She made a surprised sound; she hadn't expected him to even consider pleasuring her. 

Her curiosity finally got the better of her.

"The way you described it," she said, "You'd think the Qunari only have sex to reproduce."

"That is generally the case, yes," he said.

"I imagined it as sort of an administrative act. Some paperwork and then it's over almost as soon as it's begun," she said.

His thumb found her clit and pressed in on it, rubbing it slowly in a circle. The angle was awkward, but he still managed to do a decent enough job.

"If you had limited opportunity to engage in such pleasure, would you waste it?"

"Certainly not."

The talking stopped as he continued to toy with her clit, taking his cock into his other hand and stroking it slowly as he watched her react to his touch. Her eyelids grew heavy and her jaw relaxed as she let the sensation seep through her body. She wasn't anywhere near climax; she simply enjoyed the feeling of not needing to worry about anything outside of this room, outside of him. She hadn't felt this relaxed in over a year, maybe never.

Her eyes opened as he grabbed her hand and drew it toward him. Seeing him naked in front of her, she thought how otherworldly he looked, between his impressive form and his foreign features. The expression on his face was much less relaxed than hers. There was an intensity in his eyes, a hunger that pulled at the edges of his face. He was in a much different mood than she was.

He placed her hand on his cock, not saying a word. His message was quite clear. She curled her fingers around his shaft and picked up where he left off. It was then she was truly able to get a sense of his size--her fingertips were nowhere near meeting her thumb on the other side.

"We are... going... to need some oil," she said, looking back up into his glimmering violet eyes. They seemed to shine with delight.

"Then you will be pleased to hear I fetched some from the kitchen earlier when I was gathering things for tea. It is behind you, on the table," he said.

Twisting her body, she looked over her shoulder and saw the unmarked dark bottle she had overlooked earlier. Without straying too far, she grabbed it and uncorked it. Its scent was of wild berries and grasses, nothing that belonged to Ferelden. When she took a swig, he chuckled and pulled her back into him.

"Have you no faith in me?" he asked.

"This is really nice olive oil," she said. "They just let you have it?"

"I didn't ask."

"What did you say, then?"

"Show me your finest olive oil," he said.

"Unbelievable," she muttered as she poured some into her hand before wedging it in the cushions where they met the back of the settee, away from them.

She spread the oil along both of her hands and returned them to his cock, since she realized one wasn't going to do the job alone. He groaned something in Qunlat she didn't understand, but the actual words didn't matter. She enjoyed the noises that came from him as one hand glided up and down his shaft while the fingers of her other slid along its head, caressing the smooth skin there.

"Enough," he said after several minutes, grasping her wrists tightly and pulling her hands up into the air. "If you continue that, I will be done too soon."

He set her back onto his lap and grabbed the bottle from where she had jammed it. Unapologetically, he covered his groin in twice as much oil and then slid his fingers through her labia with no warning, causing her to make a startled sound. He replaced the bottle in its place and grabbed her hip with his other hand, though his hold was much less firm. When she felt his fingertip press up against her slit, she sat up slightly, pushing her leg further out. His oiled middle finger pushed up inside of her, the rest of his large hand hand cupping her pussy. Her tongue curled out of her mouth, wrapping over her upper lip as she enjoyed the sensation.

He moved his finger in every direction as deep as he could before finally removing it and repositioning her until she was kneeling above his erection. With one hand on his cock, he slid his head back and forth through her labia for a few moments, then pressed it up against her slit. Her hands on his shoulders, she lowered her weight slowly, taking his head inside her. He muttered again in Qunlat while she closed her eyes at the pinching sensation. 

"Maker, you're big," she whispered.

She sat up, feeling him slide free from her, and started the process again. Her nails dug into his skin as she did this several more times, each time taking in another inch or two of him. It was slow going, but he made no move to hurry her. Instead, she watched as he let his head roll back on the top of the settee, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his hands gripping her hips as he groaned in foreign words.

After a while, she pulled free and patted his shoulder.

"I know what will help," she said.

"Tell me."

She slid back off of his lap and stood, facing him. Grabbing him by the hands, she tried to pull him closer to her. He allowed himself to be tugged until he was perched on the edge of the settee. She ran one hand along his ear, caressing its edge from its pointed tip to its lobe and the other along her pussy, a hint he did not miss.

He pressed his fingers into her flushed labia. Her clit was not hard to miss--it was begging for his attention. When his tongue found it, she whimpered and steadied herself with his shoulder. He must have felt her grow unsteady, because he used his other hand to help her stay standing. It did not take long--she had been ready. The sensation of his tongue against her bud was more than enough. He did not stop when she let out a long, staccato moan that was interrupted by ragged gasps. Warmth erupted outward from her core and her knees went weak. She could feel her fingers glow, prickled with lightning. The world was temporarily quiet as the blood rushed through her head.

Instead of letting her crumple to the ground, he pulled her back onto his lap and before she was fully aware, he had pushed the head of his cock back into her. It met much less resistance. She buried her head into his neck, feeling his length slide up into her. He was still a lot to take, but having her own orgasm had done an immeasurable amount of good. She was still whimpering when she finally felt her ass hit his lap. Her entire body was spasming around him and he was holding onto her as if he was worried she might float away.

He pulled her hips back up into the air slightly, sliding her up off of him halfway, then rocked his hips up into her. She clutched his forearms and sat straight up, one eye squinting as he did this several more times. He watched and waited for her grasp to loosen, for her face to relax, and when it did, he resumed his thrusting. He seemed content to do the work, which she did not mind, especially since he was paying attention to how she reacted.

"I knew you would be tight, but this is more than I expected," he said.

"There are worse problems," she said between breaths as he pushed himself up into her. 

With each minute, it became easier for her to take him without making a small noise or strange face. He took notice of her growing comfort and his pace increased. She still held his forearms, watching him as he bucked against her. There was no way she was going to close her eyes; she had no reason to believe this would ever happen again and wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

He had slid down on the settee slightly, making it easier for him to throw himself up against her, his heels digging into the stone floor. His movements became erratic as his grasp on her waist tightened, his breathing turning into snapping growls before he thrust himself up into her a few last times, each harder than the last. Each got an increasingly louder cry from her that the whole palace was sure to hear. 

After the last, he let his ass hit the settee heavily, his hands falling away from her. He had made a mess of her and as she sat back down on the tops of his legs, she would make a mess of him, but she didn't care. He didn't appear to care much, either. Resting her chest against his, she closed her eyes and let her entire body relax. She could feel his heart through his rib cage, not beating near as fast as she expected. A testament to his physical condition.

"I'm surprised," she said.

"By what?"

"How good you are using your mouth to please a woman."

"Why would I not be good at this?"

"I just... thought since you have sex in such limited circumstances..."

"That we would not understand basic anatomy?" he asked, sounding a bit offended. "Do Ferelden men lack this knowledge?"

"It's not something they teach young men at the Chantry, no," she said.

"That such knowledge is withheld from them is a pity. The Qunari take great joy in every aspect of our lives," he said.

“Even aspects that have limited application?” she asked.

"The Qun demands it,” he said. “Why do you always want to talk, woman? Even after everything? I am putting you back in bed.”

He managed to heft her up into his arms as he stood, all nearly effortlessly. She felt like a rag doll, the way he had scooped her up with ease, one arm under her knees, the other at her back. He carried her back to bed and set her on the blankets. Before he could go far, she caught his arm and tugged at him. She clasped her other hand above her first, sitting up and using the weight of her body to anchor him. He entertained her, stopping with a sigh.

"Yes, kadan?" he asked.

"Lie down with me. I won't ask you a thousand questions."

"Just one hundred, then?"

"You're only mortal yourself, Sten of the Beresaad. I'm sure you could use a little more rest, too."

"Only because it will keep you from hounding me further," he said and slid into bed with her.

Half of him was right--she would probably get back out of bed and find a way to annoy him if he didn’t capitulate. But the other half of him was simply finding a plausible excuse. Getting back in bed and relaxing was never a part of his routine, but if he could find a semi-reasonable excuse, a lie in which he could invest, he could indulge.

He pulled her close and held up her arm, running his hand along it. Compared to his own arms, her skin was smooth and still relatively unmarred. She had picked up her share of scars over the year, but he was covered in them from a lifetime of service. 

His hand closed around her wrist, squeezing it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking from their hands up to his face, into his pale violet eyes.

Without a trace of jest in his voice, he looked straight back at her and said, "Determining what width of leather straps to use as bindings later this evening." 


	2. 9:31 - Part Two

She could avoid reality for only so long. Eventually, Alistair dragged her from her room--with zero questioning (other than "Sten? Really?")--and out in front of the court. Being a performative hero wasn't all bad, but it was exhausting. Her friends pushed one drink after another into her hand, each sharing their disbelief that their plan had worked while making sure she always had a chair to fall into. 

Before she knew what was happening, she was out in front of the royal place, standing at the head of a crowd of hundreds of citizens who were still too surprised to be alive to be traumatized, giving a speech. Their cheers washed over her but she couldn't even remember what it was she said. Whatever it had been, they loved it.

The afternoon came and went in the blink of an eye. She had lost track of Sten, but he was at her side when dinner was announced. He sidled up to her so naturally, she wasn't even sure how long he'd been gone. 

"Where have you been?" she asked. 

"Arranging passage home while you were indisposed," he replied. "I found a ship that leaves in two days."

"Two days," she said. "So soon... I'll go with you."

"Are you sure?" 

"I can't stay here and do this," she muttered, fluttering her hand at the crowd. "It's too much."

He looked around the hall, then down at her.

"Then you are welcome to join me, kadan. As for dinner, are you hungry?" 

"Maker, no. I've been eating and drinking all day," she said.

Without another word, he gripped her wrist and tugged her along behind him, leading her from the dining hall. They wound through the palace toward her chambers, passing servants and guards. If it weren't for all of the damage and her immediate knowledge, she wouldn't know an archdemon had died on the palace's spire the day before. Everything seemed so... normal already.

Other than this enormous Qunari pulling her into her room and slamming the door behind them. 

He had her up against the wall, wrenching her hands up above her head. His grasp tightened as he ground his body into hers, caging her in completely.

"Sten," she whispered, flexing her fingers.

"What?" He was terse, annoyed in advance at all of the questions she was about to ask.

"What are you planning?"

"Something more... energetic," he replied, his voice low enough to be a growl.

"Should we set a watch word?" 

"A what?" 

"A word we... I... can use to get you to stop," she said. Having to explain the concept felt a little embarrassing. 

"No special word is necessary. You can tell me to stop whenever you must, kadan," he said. "I would not hurt you on purpose."

The relief she felt was immense. She had trusted him with her life for the last year--she would also trust him with her body. All it took was one small nod and he spun her around, wrapping his arm around her waist. The bed was close, so he did not have far to haul her. She let out something between a small shriek and a laugh when he hefted her into the bed's center.

"Undress," he commanded. 

She did as she was told, happy to pull the day off of her. While she had no idea what he was going to do, she at least didn't have to think anymore. She didn't realize just how tired of making decisions she had become until that moment. 

He could be the one in charge for a change.

From a nearby chair, he lifted several lengths of narrow rope and brought it over to her. He was still fully clothed when he crawled over to her and again grabbed her by the waist. She said nothing as he laid her down on her back and proceeded to tie the hemp rope around her thigh and shin just above her ankle, wrapping it around her leg several times and securing it with elaborate knots. He repeated the process on her other leg, leaving her splayed in front of him, unable to extend her legs--they were tied in a kneeling position.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he asked.

"Do you ask Qunari women that?" 

"You are not a Qunari woman," he said as he helped her up onto her knees. "Besides, I simply want to make sure you are not uncomfortable before I begin. Once I start, I will not stop unless you demand it."

He pulled her elbows behind her back until they nearly touched, but let up after a moment. He looped the rope around her elbows, leaving nearly her back's width between her arms. She felt him wrapping the rope around the length in the middle before finishing it with a knot. She could no longer move her arms from her side. 

Under any other circumstance she might feel ill at ease, being rendered so helpless. But as his violet eyes wandered along her nude body, she instead felt nothing but arousal. She was at his complete mercy. 

His hand slipped between her legs, his index finger against her clit. Her mouth went slack and she let out a long-held breath as he touched her just lightly enough to leave her needing more. He continued this longer than she expected, filling her with a desire that gnawed at her, but she knew better than to start making demands.

"I'm surprised you didn't gag me," she said, unable to help herself.

He ran his other hand through her hair, his large palm cradling the back of her head momentarily before he grasped her hair and tugged her head back. His mouth was on the length of her exposed neck. 

"There is still time," he said into her skin. "Though, I do have a strap of leather for you to bite down on."

With that, he pushed her onto her back once again and pulled his shirt over his head. She lay there, watching him as he undressed further, pushing their clothes off the bed. He knelt between her legs, his hand on his erection, stroking it idly as he stared back down at her. The fingers of his free hand pressed against her slit, his index finger and middle finger meeting little resistance as they slid in.

"You have a way of surprising me, kadan," he said as his large fingers hooked up inside of her, pushing on her from the inside in a way that made her feel slightly insane.

"How so?" she asked. 

"This body looks so weak, frail compared to the Qunari. But the things I have seen you do with it put most Qunari to shame," he said.

Her laugh turned into a moan as he used his other hand to rub her clit in small circles. There was so little of her body she could use to respond to him, but whatever frustration she felt melted away quickly as his circles increased in speed. His pace was precise and even, and his attention to her body language was dedicated because the moment she felt remotely close to an orgasm, he pulled his hand from her clit. 

"Sten," she whimpered. 

His fingers were still inside her, running along the sensitive tissue there.

"Yes, kadan? Is there something you need?" 

"Do you enjoy watching me squirm?" she asked. 

"Yes."

"Dathrasi," she muttered.

"Swear at me all you want, woman," he said, his fingers on her clit again.

He brought her to the brink of climax several times, laying off each time at the perfect moment, until she was half exhausted and half furious. Whenever he pulled his hand away, she let out a frustrated groan, which she knew he enjoyed. In reality, they hadn't been at this for long, but she was sure it had been hours.

He pulled his hand from within her and pushed the head of his cock up against her, sliding it through her labia until it was just as wet as she was. His breath caught in his throat at the sensation. He had been away from home for so long, and then traveled another year with her--up until this morning, it had been far too long since he had been with anyone. The urgent desire had diminished somewhat thanks to earlier, but his body was now reminding him he could do with a lot more.

He dipped the head of his cock inside of her, watching her envelop him. The sensation was wonderful, but he knew he had to finish what he started with her first. He replaced his fingers inside her where they had been, his fingertips pushing at her as he found her clit again. 

She could tell from the way he started this time that he was done teasing her. The dual sensations had her panting and mewling, craning her head backward with her eyes clamped shut. He meant to make her come and it took little to finish what he had been working her up to.

Her lower abdomen was overcome by a nearly dire need to release as he stroked her. When the orgasm rushed through her, it took with it whatever remaining strength she had. Every synapse seemed to fire at once and then a million times more, her pelvis convulsing under his hand. She wasn't aware of the near-howling sound she had been making until everything went dead silent except for her gasps. 

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, damn well knowing the answer. 

"If you want to hear that it was the best orgasm of my life," she said between breaths, "then you're in luck."

"Luck has nothing to do with it, kadan," he said as he rolled her over onto her knees, her ass in the air facing him. 

She jutted her chin forward, resting it on the bed, looking at the bed's headboard. He did her a favor and positioned a pillow under her upper chest so she wouldn't have to fight to keep her head up. She felt his hand run along her buttock, squeezing it firmly as he made sure she was not entirely uncomfortable.

"You have two options," he said, leaning over her from behind. "You can continue screaming for the entire palace to hear, or you can bite down on this bit of leather."

He produced a strap of semi-stiff leather, holding it out in front of them.

"You're going to go that hard on me?"

"I do not think you will walk tomorrow," he said.

"I'll take the strap," she said. 

He placed it in her mouth and she bit down on it. The leather had just the right give to be satisfying, almost like she was doing something by biting down on it. And she nearly immediately got a chance to test it as she clamped down on it in surprise with a squeal when he slid nearly his entire length inside of her from behind, his hands gripping her hips.

He said nothing else, asking no further questions, making no additional arrangements. Unable to stabilize her upper body with her arms, she tried her best to relax. That was easy enough at first when his pace was slow. But once he was satisfied with how much of him she could take, his speed escalated rapidly. 

He bucked against her but held a distinct rhythm. He was still a lot for her, each thrust earning a muffled whine or whimper. If she could just close her legs a bit, or change the angle of her abdomen slightly. 

She really was helpless. 

That wasn't true. She could ask him to stop at any time. He had made that clear. But she wasn't going to--she hadn't come this far to give in to some discomfort from his cock. She hadn't force marched all day to Denerim to slice through hordes of darkspawn and bring down a god just to give in because he had a giant dick. With that thought, she slammed herself back against him, her teeth grinding into the leather.

He cursed, feeling a loss of control creep into his core. He had tied her up and she was still finding ways to challenge him. She would always find a way. It was what drew him to her, whether he admitted it or not.

He unceremoniously removed the pillow from underneath her and pulled her knees back so the tops of her thighs rested on the bed. She turned her head and caught sight of them in the vanity mirror across the room, watching as he undid the ropes around each of her legs, then bound her legs together at her knees and ankles. He was fast with his bindings, which she found fascinating.

Once finished, he straddled her and, with his fingers, found her slit once again. He used them as a guide, pushing his cock back into her, groaning loudly as he did so.

"How this does not break you is a mystery to me," he said, clamping his knees against her sides as he began sliding in and out of her slowly.

She spat the leather from her mouth, enjoying watching his figure ripple with each thrust, the roll starting from his pelvis, flowing up through his shoulders. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic. His size betrayed just how in control of his body he was.

"Your opinion of non-Qunari women is too low," she said. 

"It is not. But you are an exception to everything I know outside of the Qun," he said.

Another moan escaped him as his head tipped back, the heels of his palms pushing into her buttocks. With more resistance, he could only penetrate so far. He obviously didn't seem to mind and she appreciated the relief from the previous onslaught. His cock felt wonderful in this position, her exhausted body still finding ways to light up in response to the stimulation.

He went on like this for a while, his speed varying. He was clearly taking his time, enjoying himself. She was giving him license to do so, a luxury he was willing to take full advantage of. He didn't seem to mind when she grew quiet as she lay there, watching their reflections.

He paused after an immeasurable amount of time to lean over, his lips at her ear.

"Are you tired, kadan?" he asked in a whisper.

"Maker, yes," she said softly.

He ran his hand through her hair, this time nearly gently, before he sat back up and undid her elbow hobble. She stretched her arms out in front of her, rolling her stiff shoulders. He gave her little time to adjust, though; once she was free, he pulled her hips straight back, her ass in the air once again. He used her to steady himself as he got on his feet and half squatted behind her. Her entire upper body was crammed into the bed, but she couldn't help but laugh as she grasped onto the blankets.

That laugh turned into a yelp as he slammed himself into her, his nails digging into her skin. His pace was no longer measured. His desire now drove him to a single end. 

She bunched the blankets around her head as she screamed into the mattress. It muffled her cries, but it did nothing for him as his incoherent voice echoed through her chambers, and likely down the halls and out the windows.

His legs were already shaking with his final thrusts. He dropped to one knee as he came, his grip on her softening. The world around him was a haze, his limbs numb. He may as well have been in the Fade. Slowly, his senses came back to him and he sat back on his heels, looking down at her as his mind began processing new information. 

"Kadan." 

She had piled several blankets over her head, half of her upper body cocooned haphazardly in the fabric. He pulled her free and rolled her onto her side, peering down at her. She smiled and reached out, circling her arms around his neck. 

"You're a son of a bitch," she said.

He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her into him as he lay down at her side, pressing his lips to hers. She returned his kiss for several long moments before leaning back, her hand trailing from the back of his neck, down along his freshly shaved jaw. 

"I have a request," he said, the tone of his voice gaining a hard, distant edge. 

"What is it?" she asked. 

"If you become pregnant--" 

"You don't have to worry about that," she said, her finger poking the center of his chin. 

"No?" 

"No. I... learned recently that it's very difficult for Grey Wardens to produce children after the joining," she said. "Not only will darkspawn blood shorten my lifespan, it also makes me infertile. Lucky me."

He kissed her again, pinning her back down into the blankets. She slapped his shoulder several times, trying to get him off of her. He was hesitant, but eventually let her go.

"I am going to the kitchen to find some food. Would you like anything? And ale, perhaps?" he asked. 

"That'd be lovely." 

He disentangled himself from her and sat up, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed, letting out a massive yawn. After tying his hair back, he stood and tugged on his trousers. She struggled with his knots as he buckled his belt, trying to loosen them with little luck.

"Sten," she said, motioning to the rope at her knees, giving him a plaintive look.

He stared at her for a moment, enjoying the expression on her face. The Hero of Ferelden, laid low by his knots. Of course, she was resourceful--she'd be out of it by the time he returned, but it was still satisfying to see her look a _little_ pathetic. He finally leaned down and undid the ropes at her knees and ankles with swift fingers.

"Thank you."

"Sataareth kadan hass-toh issala ebasit," he said and then kissed her one last time before he grabbed his shirt and made his way out of her chambers, leaving her to rest.

She would need it, because as far as he was concerned, there was plenty of evening left.


	3. 9:37 - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years after saying goodbye to Sten, the Warden-Commander reconnects with her old companion in Seheron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff (no sex, see next chapter).

9:37

Over the years, she sent him letters, and despite his clear distaste for the chore, he returned them. He never said much, but in exchange for incense or tea, she sent various sweets, either from home or her travels. He wasn't one to do things he disliked when they fell outside of his duties, so the fact that she got any letters at all, regardless of their length, warmed her heart.

She unfolded her latest letter from him, which had arrived at the royal palace some weeks before she had. Alistair had been asking her questions about her research into the Calling and had even made himself comfortable in her chambers, taking a seat by her fireplace, but she had tuned him out--a skill she had learned long ago.

_I have arranged passage for you on The Kandhar the third week of Molioris. When you arrive, I will meet you at the Arishok's palace._

She hadn't been to Seheron since she last saw him, when she had escorted him home. She would be happy to return, even if his letter was vague. A distraction from her work would be nice, after all.

"Hello?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Alistair," she said as she folded the letter. "I was somewhere else."

"Clearly. What could he possibly write that would distract you from your dear, handsome friend who happens to be the king, don't forget." 

She smirked and sat down with him. Alistair didn't need her to explain who the letter was from, not by the look in her eye or the way she ran the edge of the envelope along her finger.

"He's asked me to come to Seheron."

"For what?" 

"He didn't say."

"Maybe he's lost his sword again. You seem to have a way of finding it."

"Was that an innuendo?" she asked. 

Alistair shrugged, then grinned and gave her an obnoxious wink. She hit him on the knee with the letter, but leaned her shoulder into his at the same time. He acted a fool, but made a far better king than his brother ever had. She enjoyed her time with him, but it would be cut short this stay. The third week of Molioris started in a few days and she needed to find out more about her journey to Seheron. 

There weren't any passenger ships that went to Seheron, so she found her trip had been booked with a spice trader. It was cramped and not at all luxurious, but she had a hammock of her own and the crew saw she was fed. After the second day, unable to sit idle, she made herself useful, so when she stepped foot off the ship, the first mate sent her off with a box of various spices for her trouble.

Seheron was an old Tevinter city, wrested from the Imperium by the Qunari. It smelled like the ocean and incense and might have been a nice place to visit, if one was a follower of the Qun. But she was clearly an outsider and no sooner than she was off the boat, eyes were on here from places she couldn't even see.

"Warden-Commander?" 

She spun on her heel to answer the Qunari soldier who appeared behind her. He, like nearly every other Qunari, had horns that swept back from his temples. She didn't know it back then, and he hadn't made it clear, but Sten was rather unique for his lack of horns.

"Yes?" she replied, looking up at the soldier.

Horned or not, nearly all Qunari were taller than her.

"I have been sent to show you the way."

"Ah, good," she said.

She followed quietly, not seeing any point in pestering her escort. She'd be able to harass Sten endlessly soon enough, like old times. The thought brought a smile to her face. She could hear his annoyance already.

They approached the palace that sat in the center of the city. It was a grand building--the Imperium never had any sense of scale. Everything with them was always overblown, regardless of the century it was built. A figure descended the steps toward them, dressed in a heavy, high waisted kilt accented with red cloth. Leather straps crossed his golden chest. His long silver hair was braided only for the first few inches, then hung free around his shoulders.

The goatee was new. 

"Kadan!" she cried, bounding toward him.

She threw her one free arm around him. He rested a large hand on the top of her head as he spoke a few words in Qunlat to her escort. After a few moments, he turned her and ushered her back up the stairs.

"Did you get a promotion?" she asked, staring up at him as they walked, noting the three earrings that hung from each ear. 

"Yes. I am now the Arishok," he said plainly.

"Andraste's tits," she whispered. "You say that like it's nothing! Congratulations!" 

He gave her a puzzled look. 

"I am only doing what I am meant to do in service of the Qun. No congratulations are in order."

She scoffed. There was no way he didn't feel pride at his appointment. She knew he did, he just wouldn't admit it. He'd always trot out service-to-the-Qun first, but the truth was in the way his eyes crinkled or the direction the corners of his mouth pulled.

"I heard the last Arishok was a bit of a troublemaker," she said as they entered the palace. 

He sighed softly, a sound she had missed.

"Yes, the Kirkwall incident was... ill-conceived," he said as they made their way through the palace, past many curious Qunari.

She felt his hand at the small of her back as he guided her. His touch was just barely there, his fingers grazing her just enough to brush her shirt up against her skin, causing it to prickle with goose flesh. She bumped her hip up against his leg gently in response.

He opened a heavy door, revealing a large study within. There was no fireplace--Seheron was much too warm to need a constant fire--but there was a small hearth across the room with a kettle for tea. The water was already boiling.

The last time she had been in Seheron, they had said their goodbyes immediately after they set foot on land. He had then turned and walked away, leaving her feeling several shades of awkward. She knew it was going to happen. He had _told her_ it was going to happen. But it still felt strange and quite sad when it actually occurred. She spent a few days eating and drinking around the city, enjoying what it had to offer. No one harassed her, Qunari, rebels, or otherwise. And then she got on another ship and decided to stop over in Antiva.

"Sit," he said as he walked to the hearth.

She took a seat at the wooden table meant for bodies much larger than hers, spreading her arms out across the surface as far as she could. He returned with tea, giving her a strange look as he sat the cups down.

"What are you doing?" he asked. 

She grinned, retracting her arms. 

"It's just a big table. That's all. You really have no sense of joy, do you?" 

"Kadan, you extract enough joy out of this world for the two of us. Please continue to do so on my behalf."

"So, what am I doing here?" she asked, folding her hands together.

Instead of sitting, he rounded the table to his neatly organized desk. He pulled out a sheaf of paper and held it up for her to see. It was all in Qunlat, even if she could read it from where she sat.

"The other Triumvir has been... politely... suggesting that I declare this Kithshok a qunoran vehl for the last two months," he said.

"Was he worthy?" she asked. 

"He meets the qualifications and was well respected by our people. More importantly, a qunoran vehl has not been declared for some time. The Triumvirate... recognizes the importance of such declarations."

"That's your way of saying the Qunari are overdue for an excuse to let off some steam," she said. 

"I will take your word for it."

He flattened the paper on his desk and stamped it with red ink, then signed it. Once dry, he rolled it and affixed his seal to it, then stepped out of his study to hand it to one of his men. When he came back in, he shut the door behind him and latched it.

"It is done. Par Vollen will have the declaration in two days and in three, I will make the decree here. I invite you to stay," he said, finally sitting down for tea. 

The look of delight on her face was absolute. She was smiling so broadly, she felt like her head might split in two. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing. No man in her entire life had gone to such lengths to enjoy her company. 

"Is that what this is all about?" she asked. "Is that why you put me on a ship and brought me all the way here? How did you know I'd even show up?" 

"I didn't," he said, maintaining his composure. "If you had not been on that ship, I would have signed that decree and then I would have lain in bed all day on the day of the decree with enough maraas-lok to drink myself blind."

"Ah, so that's what you tell yourself to keep from feeling too selfish. How romantic," she said, exhaling wistfully.

"Is it?"

"You're the Arishok. I'm sure you could have found a willing partner closer to home during the reprieve."

"I am closer to no one than you," he said.

"See," she said, pointing at him. " _That's_ romantic. Can I tie you up this time?"

"Kadan." 

His voice was a warning, but a toothless one.

"Okay okay. But how are we going to make it two more days? I must say, you're even more gorgeous with your long hair down. And the earrings?" 

"They came with the position," he said.

"They're beautiful."

His hands gripped his tea cup, his lips forming a straight thin line.

"Maybe I should put you someplace where I will not have to listen to you for two more days. You are going to... What is the phrase--" 

"Be the death of you?" 

"Yes, that."

"I can go entertain myself in Seheron for two days," she said. 

"No," he replied, his answer firm. "You will stay here, with me. I will not risk you to the rebels."

"I can fend off a few rebels, kadan."

"Not if they poison your food or target you from afar. You are valuable to a Triumvir, so you will be a target on Seheron. You will stay by my side. I will not hear any arguments on this."

"I guess the foreplay's started already, hasn't it?" she asked. 

"More tea," he said.

* * *

He had been serious when he said she was to remain by his side. For the remainder of the day, she stayed with him as he worked. She was surprised by how much paperwork the Arishok had to complete as part of his daily routine--from the way he muttered all day, she was sure it wasn't his favorite. When he met with the upper tier of the Antaam, she was at an arm's distance, somewhere he could always put eyes on her. And when evening came, they took dinner together in his suite, which was also enormous.

"How much controversy have I caused?" she asked as they ate.

"It is well known that you are a friend of mine, as is King Alistair. It is not controversial for either of you to visit," he said.

"Have you invited Alistair?" 

"No."

She laughed, the sound filling the large empty room. The Arishok was a man of few possessions, as all Qunari were supposed to be. What he had was surely already here when he took the position, but she did notice a few paintings around the room from other parts of Thedas.

After dinner, he made them more tea and she took the opportunity to dig through her pack until she found a wrapped package. Once he had sat back down, she thrust it at him, looking pleased with herself. 

"It is cookies," he said. 

"Oh come on. I hauled them all the way from Ferelden for you."

"You send me cookies regularly. Why are these different?" 

"Because I am handing them to you _in person_."

He took the package and unwrapped it with care, slicing the paper away from the sturdy metal box. After opening the top, the faint sweet smell of sugar rose from the packing paper that protected the sweets.

"These were baked the morning I left in the royal kitchen. You can't get them any fresher unless I brought all the ingredients and a Ferelden grandmother with me," she said, leaning in with a smile.

She plucked a cookie from the box and held it out to him. He took it from her and put it in his mouth. He missed freshly baked cookies--it had been six years since he last had any--but what he had just put in his mouth was the closest he had eaten since then.

She snuck a soft kiss on his lips and then slid herself up on the table's edge, where she sat and watched him peer into the box.

"There is nearly half a loaf of bread in here."

"That's how I kept them as soft as I did," she said. 

"I wish you had learned this trick six years ago."

" _Kadan_ ," she said.

He sat back and gave her a true smile as he put another into his mouth.

"Where am I sleeping?" she asked. 

"There is an old, unused servant's room adjacent to my chambers," he said. "It has been prepared for you."

"You're going to get yourself in trouble," she said.

"The previous Arishok _left_ Seheron, took a ship's worth of men with him, marooned himself in Kirkwall for years, and nearly started a war without the authorization of the other Triumvir," he said. "Keeping the Warden-Commander safe is far from scandalous by comparison."

"I'm learning Qunari have much looser ethics than I was originally led to believe," she said with a snort. "I've met quite a few more Qunari in my travels, you know. The more I learn about your people and the Qun, the more half-truths I realize you told me."

"Do not trust anything a Tal-Vashoth tells you," he said.

"I've spoken to soldiers and Ben-Hassrath--" 

"Trust anything you learned from Ben-Hassrath even less. You will get yourself in trouble with them."

"And what about you, Arishok?" she asked. "Will I not get myself in trouble with you?" 

He waved his hand in dismissal. "I have already sent Rasaan to Akhaaz."

"Who?"

"My apparent spiritual advisor. She has hovered over me like an asaaranda since my appointment. I do not trust her, she is overly ambitious."

She raised her brow. "An asaaranda? What is that? Is she a tamassran?" 

"Damnit woman, you and your questions. An asaaranda is a storm. The failure of the previous Arishok does not reflect on her well and she would disapprove of your presence here. And yes, she is a tamassran."

"Does she provide _comfort_ for your _physical needs_?" she asked, knowing full well she was being annoying. 

"I would prefer that my genitals turn black and fall off. Why do you ask such a stupid question when we have already established the reason for which I have brought you here?" 

She grinned, happy to be chastised if that was his answer. 

"I guarantee they've got you making babies. I learned hornless Qunari are desired for Ben-Hassrath work. You can't be that desperate for sex, kadan," she pressed.

"You are my heart. With you, it is different. With you... with you," he said, faltering to find words. 

His statement surprised her. She knew the various connotations of "kadan", but to hear him use it in common this way was more than she ever expected. He had a hidden soft side under all of his talk about the Qun that had long since won her over. 

He pulled another cookie from the box as a momentary distraction. 

"It is the exact reason the Qun forbids physical relationships. They are all-consuming. People forget their purpose, chasing fleeting happiness only to end up miserable. And in desperate need of re-education."

He pointed up at her, the cookie still in his hand.

"Which is why you are boarding a ship home the moment the celebration is over."

"You just don't want to get in trouble," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

She had heard it all from him before. None of this was new. He could swear up and down all he wanted about the Qun, but she knew better. She almost felt sorry for him. Her world had expanded significantly over the last six years, but his had closed in even tighter around him. When he was Beresaad in Ferelden, nobody was keeping tabs on him. He was his own keeper. Now, his entire society had its eyes on him. 

"That goes without saying," he said. “I know all too well how much of a distraction you can be.”

"Well, just give me a heads up every time you're about to announce a qunoran vehl."

"As long as you concentrate on darkspawn and stay far away from Qunari matters."

She nodded. "Deal."


	4. 9:37 - Part Two

When the sun rose, he was in her room, rolling her out of bed so he could start his day and keep her close. She cursed him up and down, but didn't chase him out as she got dressed, allowing him to lean in the doorway, watching her go from completely disheveled to something slightly less so. 

Like the previous day, he kept her close. When no one else was present, they fell into their natural banter--her pestering him about anything she found interesting about the Qunari and him acting irritated. As soon as anyone was within earshot, he turned formal and humorless.

"How long have you been planning this?" she asked over dinner.

"From the moment I left you at the docks six years ago," he said. 

"You planned on becoming Arishok?" she asked, choking on her tea. 

"No, that was fortunate," he said. "To have you in Seheron during a decree was the extent of my plans. That required me to be an officer high enough to have advanced knowledge."

"I'd say you've met and surpassed your goal. I'm proud of you," she said. "In the meantime, I've been working on my knots."

"I feel sorry for your victims. Unless it was Zevran. How many limbs did he lose?" 

"I'm going to shove that leather down your throat," she said, sitting up in her chair slightly.

"I look forward to it," he said with a chuckle. 

Another long evening and even longer, restless night passed by, leaving them with one final day to endure. She drank tea all day, staring at him over the rim of her cup. He got absolutely no work done. Dinner was dead silent. They both crawled into their beds and stared at the ceiling or wall until they eventually fell asleep.

She woke up to a hand on her arm, shaking her awake gently. Bleary-eyed, she found him leaning over her in full Arishok regalia.

"What?" she asked, her voice full of sleep.

"Do not get out of bed. I will be back as quickly as I can," he said.

She sat up a bit, rubbing her eye as he turned to go. 

"Wait."

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"I just wanted to take a good look at you," she said, pushing the covers back.

He held his arms out, his hands up, for just a moment before turning and leaving the room. Everything was still in his absence. He commanded such presence in the palace that when he was gone, it felt like a void. It was no surprise that foreigners unfamiliar with the Qunari mistook the Arishok as the nation's king, but she was still processing the idea that her secretly soft-hearted Sten was Arishok.

At some point, she realized she had been holding her breath. She inhaled deeply, the sound of her heart in her ears, as she pulled her undergarments off. She pushed everything off of her bed and floundered momentarily. When her brain caught up to the rest of her, she looked down at herself. She had managed to tear up the blankets around her like a hurricane. 

She was in the process of smoothing them back down when he re-entered. 

"What have you been doing in the limited time I was gone?" he asked in near disbelief as he tugged off his boots. 

"Flailing," she said.

"Why?" 

"It wasn't intentional," she said, sliding toward the foot of the bed.

He approached her, undoing the straps of his kilt, letting it fall to the floor. His trousers went with it and within moments, he was on the bed, pinning her shoulders to the mattress below them. His long silver hair fell around his wide jaw, framing his face. He growled a stream of Qunlat she didn't understand and pushed her back up the bed. She felt his erection against her thighs as he straddled her. 

His mouth was on hers, his kiss wild and powerful. She grasped at his arms, trying to kiss him back, but he overpowered her. She felt like she was fighting a riptide. When she felt like she had no breath left, she clawed at his biceps, which surprised him when she drew blood.

"Kadan," he said a mixture of surprise and admiration.

"Get off of me," she hissed. 

He acquiesced, rolling off of her and onto his side.

"Thank you," she said with a huff.

With that, she pushed him onto his back and leaned over him, cradling his face in her hands. His pupils had dilated into wide pools, leaving only a thin ring of violet around them. She could feel his heart beating through his neck. To say he was worked up was an understatement.

"Let me get this done, and then I am yours however you like," he said.

"I don't think so," she said with a smile. "If you just need release, there's other partners out there."

"You already know that is not the same," he said, irritated.

"So don't treat me like them," she said, still smiling, though there was a hint of something else behind her eyes.

He grabbed her wrists, sitting straight up with her. His glare was hot enough to forge steel. He yanked her hands to his chest, pulling her into his frame.

"I am not!" he bellowed.

She froze in surprise at his reaction, then leaned away from him slightly to look at him better. His face had grown red with frustration, something she had never seen before. She knew he only pretended to be stoic, that he felt emotions and very strongly.

"Do not think for a moment that I have been approaching my duties with anything that resembles passion," he snapped. "It is what must be done. But it is not that way with you. Why must you make me repeat myself?"

She shook her hands free from his hold and sat up on her knees. She pushed his hair from his face, tucking it behind the tips of his ears, the expression on her face changing into one he'd never seen before on a woman looking directly at him. He didn't need to name it out loud to know it.

She kissed him, her body falling against his. He collapsed with her into the bed as he returned her kiss. His head felt light, dizzy, while his body felt like it belonged to someone else. He mentally cursed her for doing this to him. It should have been simple. He was going to rush into her room, take all of his things off, and fuck her straight through the bed and into the stone floor. Instead, she made him talk. And then gave him that look.

She straddled his waist, her hands caressing his well-defined chest. As she admired him, he reached up toward her, but she caught his hands in her own. After pressing her lips to his knuckles for a moment, she set his hands back down and moved her weight down his body. 

He groaned as she slid along his cock, stopping once she reached the tops of his thighs. She wrapped her hands around his shaft, watching his face as she did so. He was already fully erect, his foreskin just barely covering his head. His Qunlat came in whispers as she freed his head and ran her thumb up along its underside.

"I guess I won't need the rope," she said before leaning down and wrapping her lips around him.

He swore out loud this time as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch her. The sight was matched only by the sensation of her tongue against his skin. He hesitated to touch her, lest he ruin the moment for which he had waited so long. He couldn't help himself, finally resting his hand on the side of her head. 

She could only take so much of him in her mouth, but she tried her damnedest, an act he appreciated greatly. His fingers twitched on her cheek as his head brushed the back of her throat. He sucked a breath in through his teeth and thrust his hips up toward her, which quickly caused her to gag and pull away. No matter how good she thought she was, he was far too much for her mouth alone.

"Watch it," she said.

"Apologies," he said, his voice strained.

She lowered her mouth back to him, using her hands to do the rest, stroking him as her head moved up and down on as much of his cock she could handle. She could feel his body tense up underneath her, realizing he likely had less resistance in him than he would admit.

He made a disappointed noise as she sat up and rested her hands on his legs. Hooking his hands under her arms, he tugged her back up toward him, stretching his legs apart. She slid up along his body as if she weighed nothing. He paused for a long moment, narrowing his eyes as he searched her face for some answer.

"This bed is too small," he said, rolling the both of them out of the bed. 

With her hand clasped in his, he dragged her down the hall to his room--it wasn't far. It was, as she expected, far larger than her tiny quarters, and much more impressive. A breeze wafted in through the windows, carrying the sounds of celebrating Qunari with it. Seheron was alive already.

His bed was big enough for the entire Antaam. She fell into it, nestling herself upright among the many pillows, watching as he dug in a set of drawers nearby. With him, he had a bottle she surmised was oil and a long, narrow strap of leather that glinted occasionally in the light.

"I was selfish," he said as he knelt before her. "I failed to remember that you too have been waiting for this moment, Kadan."

She continued to watch as he threaded the strap behind his balls. She could now see it had several metal clasps along the dark leather. He lined one set up on the upper side of his cock and snapped them together, followed by the others, then liberally applied the oil he had brought along.

"I would prefer to last as long as possible," he said.

"I still can't believe how deeply you undersold the Qunari sex life all those years ago," she said, grinning.

"I did not realize Fereldens had such limited experience."

"Also, how many pillows do you have here? Eight? Ten?" she asked, ignoring his insult.

He silenced her with a kiss, pressing his body against hers. She drew her knees up and he wasted no time, his hand on her pussy, spreading her labia while the fingers of his other hand teased along her folds. She made several noises ranging from pleased to surprised, noises he had dreamed of hearing again for years.

After a minute or two, he took her hand and placed her fingers on her clit.

"Impatient," she said, using the same hand to poke him in the chest.

"Humor me a little," he replied.

"Go ahead, then," she said, her tone still playful.

He watched her face as he pushed the head of his cock inside her. He continued slowly, the sensation nearly overwhelming almost immediately. Her eyes fluttered involuntarily as he reached a certain point and he paused, leaning in to kiss her jaw as he took her breast in his large hand, squeezing it gently. 

His fingers on her nipple were a decent enough of a distraction. He eventually felt her body relax again and he sat back, studying her where she sat propped up by his bedding. He then looked down at his cock and again used his hands to spread her labia, giving him a better view. He couldn't possibly get harder, but he did groan at the sight. He was almost entirely within her, which came as a surprise. He gave one last push, enjoying the sensation of being fully within her. 

She couldn't see what he saw, but she enjoyed watching the expression on his face as he sunk himself in. She pushed her tongue into the corner of her mouth as he did so, one small gasp escaping her.

"Give me a moment," she said. 

He said nothing but let his eyes drift shut as she began flexing her muscles around him.

"I recall this being much more uncomfortable for you," he said, almost dreamily. 

She draped her legs over the tops of his thighs.

"You're not wrong," she said, her fingers moving to his silver goatee, which was banded with a gold ring. "But that's unimportant."

She didn't feel the need to tell him she had purchased a leather godemiché in Orlais made to her specifications, and that those specifications had been “large”. A lady was allowed to keep some secrets. He sensed her unwillingness to divulge any information and didn't press further.

His hands slid down her sides, resting on her waist at the tops of her hips, his thumbs caressing the edges of her abdomen. His eyes remained closed as he began rocking slowly, sliding in and out of her. She gripped his shoulders gently, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. 

"I was sure this would never happen again," she said.

Her fingertip trailed along his clavicle, between his pectorals, and along the ridged line his abdominal muscles made to his navel. She returned her hand to her clit and rubbed it in a lazy circle.

"You trust me so little," he said, his voice distracted but still smug.

"I promise that I’ve learned a valuable lesson."

Words were replaced by less coherent sounds as the minutes passed by. He was waiting for her, watching once again as she brought herself close to orgasm, her hand's pace growing more frenetic. He pulled his cock nearly out of her, his thrusts shallow as he attempted to stimulate her in a particular way. 

After a while, it was all too much for her. She pressed one foot into the top of his leg, practically squealing as she came, her entire body tensing. Her back arched as she contorted into a strange shape, the sensation of the head of his cock rubbing the area right behind her clit overwhelming. Her vision blurred and the world grew distant.

"Kadan."

She could hear his voice somewhere nearby. It sounded impressed. After several seconds, she felt very warm as her skin tingled. She also felt quite damp. Her body collapsed back into the pillows and she withdrew her hand.

His violet eyes met hers for one brief moment before he unsnapped the clasps on the leather strap. It fell to the bed below them and he pushed her into the pile of pillows, hammering at her. Their arms wound around each other and she curled her legs around his waist as she made a new and different noise with each of his thrusts.

It didn't take long for him to come. He was quiet at first as his body froze, his entire length within her. His muscles then began to quiver and the shout started into her shoulder before he lifted his head and yelled at the ceiling. He then lay there for a bit, holding her, trying to recover his breath as his heart beat in his throat. 

He then sat back on his heels, slowly pulling his hair up and winding it into a makeshift bun. His golden skin shimmered from the thin layer of sweat as he dealt with stray hairs. He then moved her several feet away from where they had been sitting and lay down on his back with his arm supporting her neck. 

"Do I have to be dressed for breakfast?" she asked.

"Nobody is serving us breakfast today, so no," he answered.

"Cooking for ourselves? This is sure to bring back some _memories._ "

"I was easily the better camp cook," he said, without hesitation.

All she could do was snort.

After a long period of silence, he turned to her, resting his hand on her stomach. He was thinking, she could feel it. She could have felt it from across the room, he was weighing his words so heavily.

"There is something you could do to ingratiate yourself to Rasaan, some information you could provide that she would appreciate," he said.

"But you don't think I'm going to give it to you," she said.

"No. I should not even ask."

"Too late. You've brought it up. Out with it," she said.

"You remember Isabela."

"Impossible not to. Mmm, she had something to do with Kirkwall, didn't she? Alistair mentioned she'd gotten herself in trouble with the Qunari. They still get on well enough."

His brow perked slightly.

"Why? You're not done with her, is that it? Is that what this is all about?"

He sighed, shaking his head. Her thinking he had dragged her to Seheron just to get information about his predecessor's failure was too depressing.

"I do not care. It is not my grudge... I should have not asked. Let us worry about better things," he said. "But do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Say nothing of your time here once you leave," he said.

"You're going to have to do a lot more with those hands of yours first, my dear," she said with a smirk.

He squinted at her, then pulled away abruptly and got out of bed, crossing the room.

"Where the hell are you going?" she called after him. 

"I am getting the rope."


End file.
